David Carr leaves a huge hole in journalism: Who will decode us?

Last night’s death of David Carr leaves a bigger hole in the media than the suspension of Brian Williams from NBC News or the planned departure of Jon Stewart from The Daily Show.

By coincidence, Carr’s last Media Decoder column/post for the New York Times was about the simultaneous career changes of Williams and Stewart (as was my most recent blog post). I really don’t care much who fills the NBC anchor chair while Williams is gone for six months or longer, and I’m only mildly interested in the jockeying for Stewart’s chair. But I worry about who will decode media for the Times, and I doubt anyone can approach Carr’s mastery of this field that I cover and teach and where for decades I worked (unless this blog and occasional consulting entitle me to still use the present tense).

I didn’t make this about me so quickly (and it won’t be for long) to compare myself to Carr. I would lose such a comparison quickly, as you can tell if you read the Williams/Stewart links above.

And I certainly don’t claim any special connection (we never met). My only Decoder mention that Google can find or that I can recall was a derisive dismissal of my paywall criticism (which I defended in a comment on Carr’s post). We never exchanged emails (not because I never sent him one), but I think we had a Twitter exchange or two. But the first tweet I found from Carr directed at me was also derisive:

That criticism I defended as well, but here’s the point: Carr’s opinion and analysis mattered. When he disagreed with you, you stopped a moment to ponder his point, and, even if he didn’t win you over, he made you think. His reporting was thorough, his analysis incisive, his criticism fair.

And, in a stable of thoroughly predictable Times commentators, he was fiercely and refreshingly independent and unpredictable. When most media commentators either yearn too longingly for glory days whose glory they exaggerate or rush headlong into a future they don’t yet understand, Carr appreciated the importance of maintaining standards of quality and ethics while boldly exploring new paths to business success. I follow media commentary and reporting closely, and no one’s reporting and commentary made me stop and read more immediately than a link to an @carr2n post. He was the best.

I’m not going to pretend to do justice here to Carr or to his place in media criticism and reporting or journalism in general. That would take more time and this is an instant analysis written in the middle of the night (my chemotherapy schedule right now includes a steroid that disrupts my sleep). So here’s what I’m going to do:

Link to my past references to Carr, which I hope will show the respect I felt for him and the varied ways his work prompted and shaped the work of lesser media commentators (leaving out a few passing mentions and those two defenses linked already above).

Link to others who provided better quick commentary on his death.

Embed a powerful series of tweets late last night from Carr’s friend and former colleague David Brauer, recalling Carr’s struggle with (and eventual triumph over) crack cocaine addiction, while also honoring his contribution to journalism. I’m saving the best for last, because it’s a powerful ending to this post. If you don’t want to wade through my Carr references, I encourage jumping ahead to the Brauer tweets, then coming back and clicking on the other coverage of Carr’s death.

The piece is loaded with nearly 20 links, mostly to various media pieces about Cosby. The linked stories provide incredible depth and context to Carr’s column, if you want to know more about the media’s fawning over Cosby and the recent implosion of his image. They give the piece credibility, since you know you can click on those links to check whether Carr has quoted or cited them accurately.

Even good journalists (and Carr is one) sometimes miss the mark. Here’s how he ends his column: “All of which serves as a reminder to reporters — and those who read their work — that if journalists take their eyes off the screen, leave their cubicle and actually go out and talk with people, they might discover something that is interesting as heck.” Nearly all the reporters and columnists I know (and I suspect those Carr knows as well) regularly take their eyes off the screen, leave their cubicles and go out and talk with people. That gratuitous shot at his colleagues (and dismissal of the value of digital research, which also played a part in Matt’s success on this story) had no place in the story Carr was telling. Matt’s success with this story wasn’t just that he got off his ass and talked to people. It was that he pursued the story from multiple angles (online and in person) until he got the right story. And that he told the story even better than the New York Times did.

Paton’s messages (quoted here with his permission) reveal how tough the interview was and how Carr nudged the CEO further than he wanted to go: “First chats were not going well, so I took a risk,” and gave Carr more financial information than Paton had been planning on revealing. “David and I fenced all weekend. Not a bad result.”

This aside from Paton is also worth mentioning: “One funny exchange: he told me the times wouldn’t let him say copyboy. I had to be a copy aide.”

A 2012 post about the Times-Picayune’s cutback in newspaper print publication gave passing mention to Carr for breaking the story. In a later private email exchange with Paton and other DFM leaders, I said we should use that as a cautionary tale if we cut back print frequency at DFM newspapers (we did at a couple small dailies, but not at any metros):

“The Times-Pic (PR) disaster started w/ Carr breaking the story, so they lost control early & never even played catch-up well. When we make a decision, we need to move quickly & be briefing the media instead of figuring out whether & how to play catch-up.”

Other coverage of Carr’s death and journalism

‘I now inhabit a life I don’t deserve,’ Mr. Carr wrote at the conclusion of ‘The Night of the Gun,’ ‘but we all walk this earth feeling we are frauds. The trick is to be grateful and hope the caper doesn’t end any time soon.’

I don’t know that a guy could ever have had a better friend than he was to me. For all the successes that he racked up in his own life—a glorious family, fame and influence—he always seemed most pleased when talking about the successes of others.

Though I knew that he lived in a constant state of near-exhaustion with his work life and all the time he gave to family and friends and his students, I guess I just assumed he could go on like that forever.

I look forward to reading Erik’s full tribute to his friend. Update: Erik delivered. It’s a good read.

David Carr would have been tickled that his “Times” obit ran above the fold. To friends, he’d also have said, “It’s a little much, right?” — tad friend (@tadfriend) February 13, 2015

David Brauer remembers

I know David Brauer a little, having followed each other for years on Twitter and having met for lunch once when he was a media reporter in the Twin Cities, and warranted a fewmentions in his MinnPost media blog. He knew Carr far better than I did, working together at the Twin Cities Reader in the 1980s.

Brauer’s Twitter remembrance of Carr last night was riveting, capturing the depths and heights he reached in an amazing life:

Wish I could convey to you what a powerful specimen @carr2n was in the day. Falstaffian. Chick magnet. Hardest slams on the dance floor.